"Snowman," I said, calling on our safe word to interrupt her pursuit. Only then did she look at me.
"What's wrong, baby?" She pressed her hand to my cheek.
"I want to talk to you." I placed my hand over hers.
"I don't want to talk," she said, her expression tensing immediately
"Sam, I—"
"I don't want to talk," she snapped, her expression darkening. My stomach leapt and I started, which only made her freak out. "I'm sorry." She cupped my face in her hands and her eyes widened with panic. "I'm sorry."
"Easy, Sam. It's alright." I held her wrists for a moment then stroked her arms.
She said nothing, and I watched as she attempted to wipe any expression from her face like I imagined she did often. It didn't work at all.
"I know you're upset, honey. You don't have to talk, but can you listen?"
She nodded, and her eyes welled up. A thick, fat tear dangled from her fluttering eyelashes before tumbling to my chest.
"Okay." I kissed her fingers and she watched me. "I don't know what's going on, but something is. For as much as I want you to talk to me and tell me, it has to be on your terms and in your own time. But just so you know, I care about you very much."
"I care about you, too," she confessed, her voice soft.
"You're strong and beautiful, and everything I've always dreamed of in a partner. You're like a dream to me, Sam." I glanced over her shoulder before meeting her gaze again. "It's hard to accept that all of this is real. And I know that this is hard for you, too."
It took her a moment before she offered me a faint nod.
"I have to tell you because I just have to." I drew in a deep breath. "I love you. I'm in love with you. And I'm not sure if that helps you feel better or makes you feel worse, but I wanted you to know that. I just…" I gulped, only then noting how my own tears flowed freely. "I just love you. Okay?"
She sniffled, nodding as she closed her eyes and pressed her forehead to mine. Her tears continued to fall, though now they mingled with mine. Despite her silence, her body relaxed against me, and her soft, doting touches returned.
"I told Stella," she said, choking on her words after.
I nodded and stroked her cheeks with my knuckles. "What was that like for you?"
"She said I should tell you."
My brow furrowed as confusion entered the moment. "I don't understand."
She shook her head, leaning away to meet my gaze again "I told her how I feel about you."
"Oh." My heart leapt in my chest, and I offered her a small smile. "I agree with her assessment. You should tell me."
"It'll ruin everything."
"It won't, honey."
"It will."
"Well, then you tell me when you're ready. Okay?" I tucked her hair behind her ears and she nodded. "Okay then. Want to know something?" Again, she nodded. "I told Alice how I felt about you and she told me I should tell you. So I did."
She let out a soft chuckle and brushed her lips over mine.
"Smart people, those two." I kept on talking, mainly because she wasn't and I wanted to hear her voice more than anything right then.
"I told Stella what happened to me," she whispered, closing her eyes. "It upset her."
"Of course it did, Sam. She's upset for you, not at you."
"I didn't want to hurt her. Or you. Or anyone."
"As sad as it is to say, honey, sharing our darkness made us closer, didn't it?"
"Yeah." She sniffled and rested her head on my shoulder again, and for the first time, she let me hold her.
"I'm so tired," she said after a while.
"Let's go to bed, okay?"
She nodded and we broke apart to sit up. Her hand never released mine as we headed to her room. Her pace slowed as she glanced into the laundry room on our way by. "Did you do my laundry?"
"A little," I said, smirking as we entered the tidy room.
"And clean my house?" She stood at the entryway, her brows lifted as she glanced around.
"I got bored while waiting." I laughed and she grabbed me into a rough hug from behind.
"Rosie, you didn't have to do that."
"I wanted to. It seemed like you needed me a little." I hugged her arms then turned to look up at her. "Like how I need you sometimes. I kind of liked it."
She closed the space between us and caught me in a soft kiss. Her thumb stroked my cheek until we parted. I smiled and poked her chin when she chuckled.
"Snuggle with me?" I asked and she nodded.
"If you sleep naked."
"How about you sleep naked, too?" I flicked my eyebrows upward and she smiled. The fatigue in her beautiful face dimmed the light in her hazel gaze.
"Okay," she said, smooching my cheek before releasing me.
I pulled my shirt off my head, then climbed into the freshly-laundered linens before unfastening my bra. Samirah undressed slowly, her gaze averted the entire time, and dropped her clothes on the floor. Before she joined me in bed, she glanced to the computer on the nightstand. Her whole posture tightened and she snatched the notebook from atop.
"Did you read this?" she asked, her brow narrowed.
"I didn't." I held the blankets open for her and she sat down, the book held in her lap so tightly that her knuckles whitened. Her lips pursed and I scooted closer to sit beside her, letting the blankets fall over our lap. "You don't believe me," I said and she glanced at me.
"I believe you," she said, her voice soft.
"But you don't trust that I didn't, Sam."
"I don't want you to read it," she whispered, then covered her face with her hands.
"I won't ever read it, honey." I pressed my lips to her shoulder. "I trust you and I'll prove to you that you can trust me. Okay?"
"I do trust you, Rosie." She gripped the book again then set it aside. "I don't want to not trust you."
"What can I do to help you not lose the trust we have?" I brushed her hair from her shoulder and she glanced at me. Sam's vulnerability screamed to the surface over the last few days and tonight, it seemed to peak. I wanted to do everything I could to soothe her, the way she'd done to me.
"Um…" She sniffled and pulled the blankets over us as we lay down together, both of us on our sides facing each other. "Just be honest."
"I'm a terrible liar, if that helps. But I promise to be honest. Starting with the fact that although I recognized your pretty handwriting in the book when I picked it up, I wasn't wearing my glasses so I couldn't read a thing." I watched as her lips twitched with a threatened smile.
"I've never seen you in glasses," she said.
"Contacts." I let out a soft laugh. "I wear them whenever I go out and stuff."
"Rosie. I never took you for vain." She laughed and poked my nose.
"Well, you're still learning about me," I said, grinning at her gesture.
"I'm enjoying it." A yawn escaped her and she let out a sigh. "I'm sorry for snapping at you. I didn't mean to."
"I know." I pulled her hand to my chest and she held onto me. "When you're ready, you can tell me why."
She nodded and we scuttled closer. Sam turned out the light and urged my head to her shoulder. I obliged and she rested her chin on the top of my head, my arm draped across her middle. Her navel piercing brushed my wrist and I edged back to toy with it. I felt a smile against my forehead and she ran her lips over my hair.
***
I understood what it took for Sam to confess her feelings, and the weight of such both soothed and unsettled me. Never in my life had I wanted anyone more than Samirah, found myself comforted by someone so fondly, or wanting to offer comfort. In a short time, Sam became my everything. She was something I wanted to live for and look toward. For so long, I stayed in the day and in the moment. In my job, in my apartment, in friendships and family. I focused on singular experiences and now, my heart wanted so much more.
I gazed out over the harbor lights marred by the thickening fog of the coming morning. The smoke l
eft my lips out the open window while the cool breeze tickled my skin. My heart, despite its fullness with newfound love, wrapped itself in worry for the same reason.
A warm hand draped over my bare leg when I neared the end of my cigarette. I pulled my gaze from the rain-awaiting harbor to Sam as she plucked the stick from between my fingers. She drew on it deeply, then blew out a long, slow exhale of smoke out the window. I watched as she rubbed out the butt before flicking it outside onto the balcony. Her gaze lingered on the harbor, the same way mine had earlier, and we watched as the rain broke from the clouds.
We said nothing for a while, both of us looking out into the endless night, until Sam ended our reverie with a thoughtful delivery.
"A cousin of mine is getting married in Vancouver. My mother wants to go," she began, drawing my attention back to her though hers never left the harbor. "She can't go alone and the thought of walking into a room full of her family who follow a faith that abandoned me causes me pain. Knowing many of the people there condemn me just for existing."
I let her talk without interruption, though my heart crumbled for her. I wasn't raised with any religion or faith, and whatever practice Rebecca followed didn't seem to matter when it came to me or who I loved. I couldn't imagine how Sam felt, or how anyone felt whose family chose their religion over their loved one.
"Every time I put on that scarf, all I feel is it tightening around my neck." Her jaw clenched, and the despondency in her expression turned to coils of anger. "Turned into a weapon to choke me while they held me up against a brick wall, then after, face down in the dirt." Her shoulders tensed and she leaned her forehead against the window. Tears streamed my cheeks, but I swallowed them while I listened to her. "If I hadn't worn it, I might've had a chance. If it wasn't for that bullshit piece of fabric..."
And she fell silent then, her eyes closed. I sniffled as I scooted closer to her so that my legs cradled her while we sat on the windowsill. She let me, her hands falling to my lap when I urged her from the window. I pulled her into a hug and she didn't fight it.
"If it hadn't been for the racist, hate filled white men who targeted you, Sam. It wasn't your fault and it wasn't your fault for wearing hijab." I brushed my lips over her forehead and despite her silence, her tight, firm muscles loosened against me at the assertion. "If it hadn't been for my mother, it wouldn't have happened to me either. People hurt us. Not things. Not objects."
She sniffled then, brushing the back of her hand across her nose. "Yeah."
"What will it be like if you go to the wedding?"
"Stares. Shunning. They know I'm divorced. Some know I'm gay. A lot of discomfort."
"Your mother allows it?"
"She doesn't stop it." She shrugged and stared down at the space between us where my shirt gathered against my stomach. "It doesn't matter."
"It does matter." I stroked her cheek. "I'll go with you."
"So they can treat you the same way and my mother can call you my friend?" She shook her head. "No."
"If I have to stand outside of the venue and stare at it menacingly at the very least, I'm going. I don't want you going alone, Samirah. Stop doing so much alone." The words that escaped me surprised me the most, I think. Never before had I asserted myself so strongly with someone, other than at work.
As if I hadn't said anything at all, she sat up and swiped at her eyes.
"Do you work today, Sam?" I asked when she glanced at the clock.
"No. I took an earlier double."
"Isn't that exhausting?" I asked, watching her as she took a few deep breaths.
"It can be, but I wanted to go with you today. So I am," she declared, glancing at me with a smirk.
My brow furrowed and I tilted my head while surveying her. "How'd you know it was today?"
"Rebecca told me."
"You talked to Rebecca about it?" My eyes widened and she nodded.
"Yeah." She cleared her throat and held her hand to me. "Let's lay down for awhile since you haven't slept."
I accepted her gesture and she led me to the bed again. "Why did you talk to her?"
"Because you haven't mentioned the parole hearing but in passing, and I wasn't sure if I should bring it up," she said as we climbed in together. She pulled me to her and I rested my head on her chest as always.
"I'm really good at putting things having to do with my mother out of my mind."
"That's what she said. She also said it makes you anxious."
"I've had a good distraction." I tapped her lips with my finger and she smiled.
"We're both a little fucked up," she said.
"I thought we knew that already. From like sleeping together on practically the first date and spilling our beans after?" I laughed and she joined me in it.
"How could I forget?"
"Sam, after the hearing today, I want to talk about going with you the next time you see your mother. I want to really talk about it," I said, interrupting our frivolity. "And don't tell me no or I'll keep you on snowman indefinitely."
She narrowed her eyes at me. "Cruel little thing you are, withholding my kinks."
"Nora taught me that one." I snickered and she gave my knee a swat.
"Go to sleep."
"You go to sleep, too."
"You first."
"Nope."
"Both of us."
"Fine. Deal."
Chapter Fifteen
"Breathe, baby," Samirah called to me while I paced the hall outside the room where the parole hearing began a little while ago. Rebecca stood by, her gaze on me, while she spoke quietly to our lawyer.
Sam hadn't seen me truly upset, and I thought I'd held myself together pretty well in front of her until that moment. My heart raced, my face burned, and my hands shook as I fought the impending panic at the thought of facing my mother, now twenty years older than when I last saw her.
"Rosie." Sam's arms caught me around the middle in such a delicate embrace that it almost felt ethereal until the warmth of her had me leaning in. "Come sit with me."
I listened to her when she urged me to the bench against the wall. She pulled me into her lap, and nudged me to meet her gaze with a single finger under my chin. Her tense, worried expression didn't do much to soothe me, but her comforting smile brought a smirk to my lips.
"I'm having a panic attack," I told her and she nodded.
"I see this. You're a very controlled panicker," she said, tucking my hair behind my ears.
"It's exhausting," I said, sounding a little breathless.
"I have you, baby." She hugged me and I wrapped my arms around her shoulders while she kissed my cheek. In her arms, I calmed down some and she rubbed my back. "I love your outfit, by the way. The suspenders and the bi-color flats are adorable."
I laughed softly and leaned back to look at her. "Shh."
"No way. I'm going to celebrate you even if the moment is inappropriate." She smiled fully now, the light in her eyes quelling some of my worry.
"Thank you for coming with me."
"I wouldn't have missed it, my sweet." She took both of my hands in hers and kissed my knuckles.
Rebecca approached us, crouching down to kneel in front of me. She placed her hand on my knee to get my attention. "You're sure about this, Rosie?"
I nodded, drawing in a deep breath.
"Did you take your medicine today, sweetie?" Rebecca tucked my hair behind my ear. Part of me wanted to snap at her for the question, but a larger part understood her intention.
"I'm okay without it," I asserted, for the second time that day.
Rebecca's eyes flickered back and forth as she searched my expression. "Positive?"
I nodded and leaned my head against Sam's. She rubbed my back and the two of them shared a glance.
"Okay. George said we're about ready to head in. They did all the beginning proceedings, and now they're about to hear your mother speak. We can go in after if you prefer, but it's up to you," Rebecca said, taking my hand when I fiddled with t
he pleat in my slacks.
"We can go in," I said, my voice soft.
Rebecca glanced to the lawyer then back to me. "All right."
Without further discussion, we stood, Sam's hand held tightly in mine, and headed in once they called us.
Part of me expected a courtroom style setup, but in the smaller space, it appeared more like a panel discussion than court. A row of people sat at the front—men and women in various business attire—facing the spot where my mother sat. The back of her head, still shades of dirty-blonde similar to mine, nearly tripped me up. She wore a tidy pantsuit, and appeared lawyer-like from her profile. Age captured her in a manner I foresaw, but I didn't expect her to appear attractive and well. My insides twisted, both with anger and disgust. Even in her punishment, the universe granted her wellness which seemed hardly fair. She turned in her chair, glassy eyes falling on me, and a single tear tumbled down her cheek. I pulled my gaze away and looked to Rebecca.
She was there in an instant, moving to stand beside me and taking my other hand. The way she positioned herself blocked my mother from view.
The last time I saw her, she stood at the door of the hotel room, hundred-dollar bills crumpled in her palms after she sold me to the highest bidder. It was the only thing I could see for a moment.
"She's ripe, Vic. As promised. What've you got for me?" she said, her face expressionless but her eyes clamoring with excitement.
"If she's uncooperative, you've lost a customer," said the man who had no face in my memories as he pushed the money into her hands. "Get your fix." He smiled at me, his hand in my hair. "While I have mine."
"Rosie," Sam whispered against my ear. "I want you to breathe with me." She hugged my arm to her chest. "Follow how I breathe."
I nodded, blinking away the tears that leapt from my lashes. I listened to her, and drew in breaths when she did, and out in time. Rebecca kissed my temple and sandwiched me between them, I closed my eyes for a moment to allow the memories to pass. Maybe this was a mistake. Maybe I shouldn't have let my anger guide me to this endeavor.
"Carly Bryant," said one of the women up at the panel. "You came here today to present your side of this case, which frankly, I don't feel you deserve. You sold your own child to pedophiles for thousands of dollars to fuel your own addiction that you took no responsibility for. Why would we release a sex trafficking addict back into the community?"
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